


Detention and Spearmint Gum.

by sleeplesscontinuum



Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-23
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplesscontinuum/pseuds/sleeplesscontinuum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor is the king of the school. He treats everyone in school like they are his loyal subjects. Then Loki, a paint-stained art student, comes along like a whirlwind. Thor’s rockstar life, of sex with cheerleaders, and frat-boy parties, is turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Loki Laufey is practically a permanent fixture in the detention room. He’s got his own seat specifically reserved there, and Thor assumes they automatically print his name onto the role call for detention, and Loki just never leaves the room. He’s in detention daily, and Thor sees the sullen boy staring off into space every afternoon as he collects his things from his locker, but never says a word to him. Come to think of it, he’s never seen Loki talk to anyone.

Thor is late from football practice, and is collecting his things from his locker, when he notices Loki hunched over a sketchbook in the detention room. There’s no teacher supervising, and Thor presumes this is because Loki is in detention so often that they don’t even bother with him any more.

He cautiously enters the room, more out of curiosity rather than sympathy, for the lonely boy.

Thor drags a chair, and joins Loki at the fake-wooden desk that is actually made of plastic. Loki doesn’t flinch at the sudden noise, or even bother to look up.

“Hey,” Thor says, and Loki makes brief eye contact – just long enough to read Thor’s facial expression like a book. Thor’s staring at him with a look that silently begs him to say something, to say anything.

Loki knows this, and presses his lips together in a hard line. Loki’s been ignored his entire life, and is therefore used to silence. He could keep this up all day, it’s not like anyone listens to him when actually has something to say anyway.

Thor watches him, listening to the constant sound of gum being crushed between teeth, and the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall.

Eventually Thor shrugs and, after five minutes of total silence from Loki, he kicks out the chair, and walks toward the door.

“Silence bothers you, doesn’t it?” Loki says, softly.

Thor freezes, hand on the doorknob, and just stands there for a moment. Loki’s voice sounds nothing like he’d imagined - it’s sweeter, and has the hint of an accent.

“You’re so used to being the centre of attention,” Loki continues, twisting his gum around his finger, “And then silence reminds you just how alone you are. That’s why the silence scares you,”

Thor turns around, swift and sharp movements of an athlete, and stalks over to the desk Loki is sitting at. He slams his fists down on the table, “You know nothing about me,” he replies, darkly. He doesn’t know why he’s reacted so aggressively, but Loki plays on emotions as if they were toys.

There’s no response from Loki, he simply looks very bored and offers a lazy smile.

Thor stares at him, confused about Loki’s lack of fear and respect toward him. Does this kid not know who he is?

Loki leans forward, and wraps the rest of his gum around his forefinger. Then gets up from his chair, gracefully, and plunges his finger between Thor’s lips.

Thor is so startled, his mouth hangs open in gaping shock, and he can feel the chewed-up spearmint gum on his tongue. He cringes, and gags, then spits it to the ground.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Thor mutters, but Loki’s disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor Odinson was king - of a high school popularity contest, but regardless, he was still king - and he had authority over the other students. He was respected and adored, and that was what mattered.

There were a lot of perks to being Thor Odinson. He was, without doubt, the most powerful student in the school with the ability to make or break a student with just a conversation. He was selfish, vain, and downright rude. For some reason in the eyes of the students, this made him a badass, and not a total douchebag.

But he really wasn’t as awful as people made him out to be. It was certainly a lot more fun to be the hero they worshipped him as, than to reduce himself to common status.   
So he played the part he was given – all the guys wanted to be him, and all the girls wanted to be with him.   
It was all just parties, football and a different girl every night. He was perfectly content with this almost rock-n-roll lifestyle, until Loki Laufey came along and fucked it all up without even trying.

Thor notices Loki sitting in the car park, drumming his paint-stained fingertips on the edge of a cup of Starbucks. He watches him, through the science room window, and can only imagine how much of a stalker he must look.   
But because he is Thor Odinson, and not a regular faceless student in a sea of teenage angst and sex, no-one would ever suspect a thing. Even if they did, he could arrange to have their fingers and jaw broken before they breathed a word of it.

Thor hadn’t spoken to Loki since that first encounter, in the detention room. Something about his boy, this character he was parading around as, had captured Thor’s attention. Not in a way that suggested he wanted to slam him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat. Of course not! No, this was Thor Odinson, and Thor knew very well that was not the kind of behaviour expected from him.   
But he couldn’t take his eyes off that slender waist, and the way his long fingers held a cigarette. Thor shook his head, as if that would dislodge the image of Loki withering around on satin sheets, begging Thor in a raspy voice with heaving breath.

Loki glances up, and Thor doesn’t even have the time to look away or pretend he wasn’t staring. There’s a smirk tugging at the corner of Loki’s face, and Thor doesn’t miss it – not even from this distance. Thor decides there’s no point acting like he wasn’t staring, because it’s obvious to him, that Loki knows. He watches as the thin boy slides off the car bonnet, and flattens his cigarette into the ground. He pauses, and locks eyes with Thor once more, then stalks out of vision.

The bell rings, and Thor doesn’t even notice until Tony kicks his chair and tells him they’re all going to the local pizza place. Thor makes up an excuse not to go along, and wanders out looking for Loki by the car park.

He’s standing around, trying to look unsuspicious, when Loki emerges from around the corner of the science block.

“Are you stalking me?” Loki says, cocking an eyebrow. He sticks another cigarette between his lips and pulls a green plastic BIC lighter from the pocket of his dark grey jeans. The flame glows, turning the end of the Marlboro red, flickering a brief glow to Loki’s face that highlights his cheekbones.


	3. Chapter 3

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Thor snaps back, with his practiced Holier-Than-Thou arrogance perfected through years of looking down at those he felt not worthy of his time.

“Are you looking for more insight into the kind of horrible human being that you are?” Loki asks, and stares at the smoke dancing from his cigarette.

Thor squints, and his eyebrows knit together.

“Right, sorry. That was probably beyond your intellect,” Loki says, and there’s a taunting in his voice, but no malice, “I was referring to our previous meeting,”

The same confused expression remains on Thor’s face, and he should punch this guy for calling him stupid, but he doesn’t. He just stands there, feeling like a clumsy idiot compared to the slender boy before him.

“Did you want something from me?” Loki asks, tilting his head back and exhaling smoke up into the leaking pastel sky of afternoon. The pinks and oranges bleed together, like a childish watercolour painting, and the smoke swirls up with the wind.

Thor takes a moment to snap back to reality, only to find Loki is now right in front of him. There’s the smallest gasping space between then, and Loki is leering closer. Thor hadn’t noticed how tall he was, until his nose was mere centimetres from his own. There’s tension in the air, and Thor feels so uncomfortable for reasons he’s not sure of.

Loki leans slightly forward, and his hand snakes between Thor’s thighs. Thor flinches, and wants to shy away, but can’t bring himself to do so. He’s not sure if he’s scared, or confused – perhaps a mixture of the two.

“I’ve seen you watching me,” Loki hisses in Thor’s ear, his leather jacket brushing against the football jersey.

Thor tries to look away, tries to look at anything other than the sharp features of Loki’s face twisting into a smirk, but can’t. He attempts to watch Loki, with his head turned away, so he doesn’t know that he’s staring at him so intently. Loki removes the cigarette from between soft, pink lips and lets it dangle between his fingers.

“Now, here’s an interesting development, isn’t it?” Loki continues, sliding his other hand further up Thor’s leg, “You could easily fight me off, couldn’t you? You’re the captain of the football team, you’re-” he groans softly, “so big and strong,”

It’s gone too far, and Thor shoves him off. Loki stumbles backward, but regains his footing quickly like a gymnast. The smirk doesn’t leave his face, and he sticks the cigarette back in his mouth, inhaling deeply and causing his cheeks to hollow out.

“You want me,” Loki says, his voice low and whispering, and he raises an eyebrow, “You could have anyone in this school, but-”

Thor doesn’t know why this boy has captivated him, but he hates it.   
He hates Loki’s long legs and softly curved hips.   
He hates his glossy, dark hair and snow-white pale skin.

He can feel his hands curl into fists, and his teeth grit together. 

He grabs Loki by his ripped-up band shirt, and smashes their lips together. It’s a clashing of forces, a war, and they’re both struggling.   
There’s spit glossing over their lips, it’s not romantic or sexy – it’s messy and disgusting, but Thor can’t pull away. Loki growls into Thor’s mouth, and this just spurs him on even more.   
He already feels addicted to the way Loki twisting and moves against him, and the noise that splutters from between his lips.

When they pull away, Thor’s breath is strangled-sounding and he’s panting. His lips feel tingling, and his hands feel numb but all he wants to do is trail them over Loki’s body. He just wants to touch every square space of that pale body, figure out exactly what makes Loki scream.

Fuck, why did it have to be him?

“Looks like the school’s ‘Golden Boy’ is made of copper,” Loki says, with sneering bitterness, and walks off without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else even use the phrase ‘golden boy’? I feel like I’m the only one, hah.
> 
> Anyway, Loki’s last line of dialogue is a distorted reference to the line ‘My insides are copper, I’d kill to make them gold,’ from Fall Out Boy’s ‘Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish you were here)‘


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, you got me in your bed,” Loki says, and as if he can read Thor’s thoughts he adds, “What are you going to do with me?”

Thor finds Loki sitting on the bonnet of a beaten-up car with a cigarette dangling from his lips, and a sweep of black ink along his cheek. His hair is up in a bun, and there’s a pen stuck in it. He seems focused on the sketchbook in front of him, but before Thor can sneak a look, Loki slams it shut.

Thor has arranged this speech in his head a million times, and knows word for word that it will entail him describing, in as much detail as necessary, the many woman who he has slept with, and how entirely straight he is, and that Loki is a deviant for forcing himself at Thor, and that he should consider himself lucky that Thor hasn’t arranged for his murder. Thor will conclude with another threat, and then he will punch Loki in the face just to reinforce the message.

He clears his throat, and is about to speak when Loki glances up at him with emerald eyes circled in smudged black.

“May I be of some assistance?” Loki politely asks, though there’s no trace of respect.

“You kissed me,” Thor growls in a low voice, despite the fact they’re alone, and forgets about his speech.

“No,” Loki replies, and he laughs softly, “You kissed me,”

Thor squints his eyes at Loki, in an effort to look menacing. His jaw clenches, and he can feel his heart thumping in his chest. Loki seems completely oblivious, or unconcerned, and leans back to let the fading sun shine onto his face.

“I’m not…” But Thor can’t finish the sentence, he can’t bring himself to say it – whether it’s because he’s not sure if the statements true anymore, or because he doesn’t even want to say the word.

“Not…?” Loki prompts, with a teasing smile.

Thor bites his bottom lip, and wonders what happened to the King-like Thor everyone was so familiar with, and why was Loki able to see straight through that act.

“You’re coming for a drive,” Thor grunts, and stalks over to his red Porsche. He flings the door open, and glares at Loki until he moves. Loki sighs, and drags his Doc Martens along the gravel and tosses himself lazily into the passenger seat of the car.

The car revs, and Foo Fighters blare through the stereo speakers. Loki frowns and changes the station to some folksy-sounding acoustic guitar, accompanied by melancholy lyrics and a dragging voice singing about how broken hearts were like boats or umbrellas or something else that made no sense. Thor grunts, and side-eyes him, but Loki just smiles sweetly and announces that he loves this song.

Loki hums along to the song, and scratches some dried paint from his hand, seemingly unfazed by the whole situation. Thor sneaks glances at Loki every time they stop at a set of traffic lights, and notes the way he drums his fingers along his thigh to the song, and the way he keeps pushing strands of his hair back behind his ear or tucking them up into the bun.

They arrive at Thor’s house, or rather mansion, and he steps on the breaks so hard the car swerves a little. Loki doesn’t flinch, he just keeps staring out the window and bobbing his head along with the dull thudding of the double-bass.

“We need to talk,” Thor states in a serious tone, and turns off the radio, “about…you know, the other day, and uh, what happened,”

Suddenly Thor didn’t have the ability to speak in a booming voice that commanded attention, instead he was mumbling and stuttering over words as if he were a child learning to read.

Loki leaned back and clicked his neck, “What’s there to talk about? You kissed me, you liked it, so what?”

“I didn’t like it!” Thor shouts, and his voice rings out through the small confines of the car.

Loki looks slightly wide-eyed, but not overly alarmed. His hair tumbled into his face when he leans over, and Thor has to bite back the sound he knows would spill out if he let it.

“So,” Loki coyly murmurs, letting his legs slip further apart, “You wouldn’t be interested in doing it again?”

Thor takes a second, just one little moment, to remember the taste of Loki’s cigarettes and coffee on his lips, the touch of his fingers against the hem of his jersey, the way he hipbones dug against Thor’s body, and he sighs. “Fuck you,” he mutters, and throws open the car door.

“Get your ass upstairs, now,” he growls, and drags Loki by the front of his shirt up the curved flight of stairs.

He tosses him on the bed with the ease of throwing a football, and only then does he realize he has no idea what he’s doing. Thor’s slept with plenty of girls during his years reigning over Asgard High, he wouldn’t be surprised if the total was close to a hundred, but when it was about guys he had no idea what to do. More to the point, he was certainly very sure he didn’t want to do anything. But the way Loki smirked at him, and looked at him through lidded bedroom eyes, pushed that thought aside.

“So, you got me in your bed,” Loki says, and as if he can read Thor’s thoughts he adds, “What are you going to do with me?”

Thor is standing at the edge of his bed, and he can’t stop looking at Loki. He can’t think of anything, but how stunning that ivory skin would look covered in red lines from scratching and biting. Because Thor wants him, he wants him in the most aggressive way and he wants to make him beg. He wants to hear his own name, laced with curse words and pleading, pouring from Loki’s mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me, Thor, do I beg? In these fantasies of yours, do I plead?

“I’m not one of your cheerleader whores,” Loki says, and he crawls on his hands and knees across the bed toward Thor, “I’m not just going to let you fuck me that easily,”

Loki’s growls the word ‘fuck’, emphasising every syllable, and bites down on his bottom lip, dragging his teeth along it. He smirks when he notices Thor’s breathing hitch at the sight, and puts his weight on his hands, his back dipping to a soft curve and his tongue running over his teeth.

Thor tries to shuffle away, and becomes all too aware of the tenting in his pants. Loki notices as well, and slinks closer with the subtle movements of a cat. His long legs stretch out by the side of the bed, he’s still wearing his ridiculous cowboy boots and skin-tight jeans. He’s still fully-clothed, but Thor thinks he’s never seen anything so blatantly sexual, and it makes him all too aware of the burning sensation taking over his body.

 

Loki sinks to the floor, soft carpet tickling his hands as he drags them over the white wool, and inches over to Thor. His hands rest on Thor’s knees, and he slips them apart with no protesting from the football player.

Loki murmurs to himself, and digs the heel of his hand into the muscle of Thor’s thigh, grinding against the denim. He reaches the zip, and Thor can feel his whole body quiver. Loki undoes the pants, and Thor’s cock is hard and pressing against the gray underwear. He yanks both the jeans and boxer-briefs down to his knees, and takes a moment to look back up at Thor.

Thor doesn’t know what to do, what to say, so he blurts out, “We haven’t even had a proper conversation,”

Loki almost laughs, but the sound falls empty from his mouth, “Don’t pretend you care about any of this. You couldn’t give a shit who you fuck, so long as you get what you want,”

“Then why are you doing this?” Thor asks, feeling like a complete idiot having this conversation half naked with his dick on display.

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki mutters, and takes a bone-crushingly tight grip on Thor’s dick.

Thor kicks him back, “I’m not gay,” he protests, though his voice sounds weak.

“You were five minutes ago,” Loki grins, “I saw you looking at me. You thought about what I would look like panting and begging, didn’t you? Sweat dripping from my back, sheets twisted around my ankles” Loki taunts, “You thought about fucking me until I couldn’t walk for days, pulling my hair and tying my wrists to your bed. Tell me, Thor, do I beg? In these fantasies of yours, do I plead and whisper your name? Or do I kick and I bite back. Is that it, Thor? Do you want me to scream?”

Thor’s entire face burns up, and he feels like he might pass out. The world seems to be getting so much smaller, constricting him and his breathing feels odd.

“Fuck you,” he spits, tugging up his pants clumsily, so hard he feels like he’s actually in pain, “Fuck you, my life was fine until you came along,”

“I never asked anything from you!” Loki shouts back, and his voice sounds broken now, “I never asked for a fucking thing from you!”

Loki’s whole body is quivering now, and his breathing sounds like a whooping cough. It’s a hollow, harsh sound like death. He’s starting to look even more pale, as if that were possible, and keeps swallowing back gasping breaths like he’s going to throw up.

Thor grabs him, pins him against the bed and tries to stop Loki from shaking.

“What is wrong with you?!” Thor yells, “What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he lightly presses his lips to Loki’s, and tries to breath the very air back into his lungs. 

This is not a kiss. This is just medic procedure, Thor assures himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Loki seems to calm down, and his unsteady breathing returns to a more normal pace. 

"You just can't keep your hands off me," is the first thing Loki says, instead of ' _thank-you_ '.

"What just happened?" Thor asks, cautiously brushing his fingertips over Loki's forearm.  
It's a soft gesture that clearly displays concern, but Thor tells himself he isn't concerned. No, not at all. Why would he be? He doesn't care about Loki. He's just being polite, and compassionate - that's all. Thor's not a monster, of course he's going to make sure Loki is alright. That's all this is.

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it," Loki snaps, his sullen unpleasantness returning as suddenly as his breathing.

"So because you don't want to talk about it, we're not going to?" Thor responds, annoyed. He's annoyed because he wants answers, not because he cares, or at least that's what he's telling himself as he watches Loki try to subtly wipe his watery eyes. 

"That's the way things seem to work around here," Loki says, and his voice has the same bitterness it always does, but there's something off about it. It sounds wrong, the tone sounds forced and unnatural.

Thor grunts in reply to Loki, and because he can't stand looking at him any more, he leans back and rests on the carpet. Loki crawls over and lies right on top of Thor, propping himself up on his elbows with his chin resting on Thor's chest.

Thor orders himself to get up. He wants to punch Loki, right in the jaw, and kick in out of his house ensuring somehow, that he never sees him again. But not as much as he wants to stay here, with their clothes rumpled and skin barely touching. Not as much as he wants to inhale the scent of cigarettes and fruit shampoo from Loki’s hair. Truth be told (which Thor would prefer it wasn't), Thor wouldn't ever want to punch Loki, or hurt him in any way. Quite the opposite, really. Thor wants to protect him, hide him away from the world because the world can be cruel. Thor wants to keep Loki all to himself, and he doesn't know why. 

Thor had never really spent time alone with anyone in a very long time, unless they were having sex. It was weird, and he didn’t know what to do.  
He also didn’t understand why, of all people, the person he was lying here with was Loki Laufey.

“What are we doing?” Thor asks, and pushes Loki off, so that he's lying beside him.

“I don’t know,” Loki replies, “I really _don’t_ know,”

They stay there on the carpet - shoulder to shoulder, with Loki humming some Modest Mouse song to fill the silence, and they stare at the ceiling.   
Occasionally one of them will sneak a glance at the other, and both pretend not to have noticed.

The world outside the window, outside of this quiet sanctuary, gets darker without the two of them realizing it. After some time, Thor props himself up on his elbows and glances at blurry red numbers on a bedside clock, they read 02:41AM. Time just continues running, regardless of what may be happening in each individual person's life. Thor think, perhaps, if he could just make time stop just for a moment, he could figure out what was happening to everything he thought he understood, and why Loki Laufey was so able to destroy it all. He could figure out how to make it go away, how to forget he ever met him.

Thor groans, and when he gets up he feels every bone in his body crack and a shot of pain flows through him. Thor makes his way to the bed, and Loki follows without a word. Loki pulls the pen from his hair, and the black waves uncurl from the bun and hang around his shoulders. His pale face, barely lit by moonlight, is framed by the onyx waves, and Thor feels a weird emotion in the pit of his stomach - like a sick feeling, but a nice kind.  
  
There’s shuffling as Loki gets comfortable in the sea of overly-plush pillows and giant quilt, and he falls asleep instantly. He looks so peaceful, and beautiful, with long eyelashes and a hint of a smile as he buries his face into the pillow and sighs contently.  
  
Thor feels the breath against his neck, and all he wants is this – right here – to be with Loki. He knows nothing about him, but he wants to know _everything_. He likes him, and he doesn’t know why. It scares him, and it’s not something he thought he’d ever have to deal with. This is not who Thor Odinson is, or is meant to be. 

He tries to push the thoughts of Loki from his mind, because Thor Odinson is _not_ gay. He is repeating this over and over in his head, when he feels Loki’s hand brush his arm and it breaks his trance. It sends shivers up his spine and he curses Loki a million times over, but doesn’t move away when Loki’s grabs a fist of his shirt and pulls him closer.

“Fuck you, Loki Laufey,” Thor sighs, scrubbing his face with the heels of his hands.


	7. Chapter 7

Loki looks younger in the light of morning. His skin is dewy and his eyes look brighter, and wider. 

“You look different,” Thor mutters, brushing Loki’s hair back.

Loki mumbles something, though it's muffled by a yawn and he nuzzles in face into the pillow.

For a moment, just one fleeting second, Thor doesn’t think of Loki as a guy, or as anything other than just Loki. He thinks how much simpler it would be, if things were that easy. If everyone could just see each person as individuals that didn’t need a specific purpose or label. People who had nothing to prove to anyone, and just wanted to exist. But when Thor considers this, he realizes it’s a ridiculous concept for a futuristic world that undoubtedly will never exist.

Loki is a guy, and that is the only way anyone would ever view the situation at hand. And with that, Thor becomes all too aware of the palm of his hand, warm and gentle, against Loki’s side. The barely-touching ghost of his fingers over Loki’s hipbone. He notices the way Loki is curled up against his side, and the way his fingers are looped in the fabric of Thor’s shirt. He becomes all to alert of the way Loki’s legs are intertwined with his own, and the content sigh humming from Loki’s lips.

“You need to leave,” Thor announces, bringing his hands back from Loki’s skin. 

He instantly misses the way Loki’s skin feels, and he wants to ignore everything he just said, and thought, and just return to the early hours of the morning where nothing made sense and nothing had to. 

Those hours belonged to them, just the two of them, and no-one else had to know. Not that there was anything to know, of course, because Thor didn’t do a thing. He just lay there with Loki by his side, and he was content to just brush fingertips over skin. He’d love to tear his clothes off, and watch Loki’s body spasm in waves of pleasure, but he was equally as happy to just lye here with him, watching him breath.  This was not how Thor Odinson usually spent the night with company. More to the point, the ‘company’ was usually gone by the time Thor woke up. But just this once, he was happy they had decided to stay. Things with Loki were different, and it scared him more than anything.  
  
“You want me to go?” Loki asks, quietly.

Thor wants to shout ‘No,’ and he wants to plead for him to stay. 

But he doesn’t. He briefly closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and nods. He doesn’t know if he’s closed his eyes because he can’t bear to look at the expression on Loki’s face, or because he can’t stand to watch him leave.

“Say _anything_ to _anyone_ , and I’ll rip your throat out,” Thor adds, as Loki walks out the door.

Denial is working out just fine for Thor Odinson, thank-you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is short, and sorry for the rambling at the start there, but I just feel like, a lot of the time, Thor doesn’t get enough credit for his intelligence because it’s easy to make him the ‘puppy dog’ of the Avengers (which he is, and it's a fun thing to write, but I just didn't want to do that this time). He’s not a total idiot.


	8. Chapter 8

Loki is sitting on the low wall, behind the school, and swinging his legs. There’s a constant thudding, like a drumbeat to a rock song, as his moss-green combat boots beat against the brick. He's waiting for Thor, though he won't admit it, because Loki feels stupid for going back to Thor. The only thing Thor's done is toss him aside, and reel him back in, over and over. 

Loki’s wearing a black leather jacket, it’s short-cropped and covered in badges, and some ripped-up jeans with holes in the thigh and knee. There’s paint on them that will never wash out and some ink as well. He hums quietly to himself, and pulls a stray thread from his faded flannel shirt.

“Well, well, well...Look who came back," Loki snaps, as he spots Thor approaching, "Are you following me again?” he asks, with the vague hint of a smile.

"Are you waiting for me again?” Thor says in a mimicking tone, ignoring Loki's question.

Loki jumps off the wall, his ass grazing the edge of it, and lands promptly infront of Thor. “Are we going for a drive?” he asks.

Thor props his Aviator sunglasses up on his head, and they push his blonde hair back from his face. His hair is damp, from his shower after football practice, and the sudden gust of wind sends the chilly bite of Autumn down the back of his neck.

“Tie your hair up,” Loki murmurs slipping his arms around Thor’s neck and twirling the golden mane around his fingers and twisting it up into a bun, “You’ll catch a cold,”

Thor looks around the parking lot, and when he's content that it's empty, he hoists Loki over his shoulder, and shoves him into the back seat of the Porsche.

Loki lies back, against the pale cream interior of expensive leather. He hooks his legs around Thor’s knees. Thor stands outside the car, and Loki pulls him closer, pressing his legs hard against the bottom of the door frame . Thor nearly hits his forehead on the roof, watching Loki squirm against the seats.

“Get in here,” Loki murmurs in a drunken-sounding slur of words, spiked with lust.

Thor crawls over Loki, knees resting on either side of his hips, and closes the car door. His left leg smacks against the divider running through the centre of the car and his right ankle is tangled in a seatbelt.

He leans down, and considers that perhaps the backseat of a Porsche Panamera isn’t the most comfortable place for a make-out session. But then Loki props himself up on his elbows, and his neck strains, so that he can nip at Thor’s lips with slightly crooked teeth, and Thor thinks it’s the perfect place for making-out. Loki’s tongue darts out and drags along Thor’s bottom lip, not-so-politely asking for entrance. Thor abides, and slips his lips apart just a little. Loki seizes the opportunity, and his tongue moves with professional expertise seeking out every space of Thor’s mouth. 

Thor can’t help but moan, and slips his fingers under the red checked fabric that covers Loki’s chest. His fingers trail up and the feel of the dips in Loki’s ribcage send Thor’s senses into overdrive. He’s got an appetite, and he wants more.

He snarls, like an animal, and his hands tense up, fingers suddenly scratching and clawing. The jacket is quickly shrugged off and discarded somewhere over the front seat, and he sets to work on the buttons of the shirt. He cusses about ten times, at Loki for choosing to wear the shirt, and Loki shrugs.

“If I’d have known this is where it’d be going, I’d have shown up in your car naked,” he teases, pressing hot lips to Thor’s neck – right on the pulse.


	9. Chapter 9

“Not here,” Thor mumbles, against Loki’s throat, his teeth grazing along the curve, “Not in the backseat of a car,”

“Yes. Here. Now,” Loki says, in a gasping voice, and Thor shrugs and returns to undoing the buttons.

Loki leans up, so that Thor can take the shirt off. Thor’s wrists circle Loki’s arms, and push the shirt off, jolting it sharply down over his clenched hands.

Thor takes a moment to drink in the sight of Loki’s pale body, the slim torso curved softly and so flawlessly pale. His skin is pure and white, stretched over his delicate frame, the color of milk. Each breath he takes exposes his ribs and sternum, bones jutting out and on display.

“Stop staring at me like that,” Loki whines, looking up at him with long dark eyelashes blinking slowly, and Thor can sense a sort of self-conciousness or anxiety.

“You okay?” Thor asks, brushing his knuckles softly along Loki’s cheekbone.

Loki nods, but he's cautious with his movements. He kisses Thor’s shoulder, along the muscle up to his neck, and moves his grazing lips over to Thor’s jawline. The harder he pushes his lips to the stubbled skin, the more he can feel Thor quiver and press back against him. 

The look of nervousness is quickly replaced by a sly smile, almost secretive as if it were specially kept for Thor.

Thor slips his hands down, and fumbles for the zip of Loki’s jeans. He shoves them down, and Loki whines as Thor’s palm brushes his cock. He bucks his hips up against him, muttering nonsense into the crook of Thor’s neck.

Loki’s fingers trace Thor’s hips, then yanks down his baggy jeans to his knees. The denim pools around him, and he doesn’t bother to take them off completely.

“You don’t have lube, do you?” Loki murmurs in Thor’s mouth, just as he slams their lips together in a crushing kiss.

There’s a muffles response of ‘uh-uh’ from Thor, and Loki scrunches his nose up and sighs.

“Go ahead,” he says, pulling Thor back by the hair, “Use your spit,”

Thor frowns, “Won’t that hurt?”

“Just fuckin’ do it,” Loki grunts, and tries repositioning himself against the seat, which is already starting to get slick with sweat.

Thor sits back for a moment, as best he can granted the cramped space, and feels like a virgin all over again.

"Work your fingers in there first," Loki says, quietly.

Thor has no clue what that's supposed to mean, but he's too shy to ask. He's Thor Odinson, he's slept with practically every girl on entering this years Nationwide Cheerleading Championships - not to mention every girl in the Academic Team, Swimming Team, and...well, basically every girl this side of California. 

So he just spits into his palm, and wraps his hand around his cock.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he mumbles, awkwardly. Loki makes a face at him, and tilts his head back.

When Thor thrusts forward, Loki can’t contain the growling whimper as he digs his nails into Thor's hips.

Thor instantly pulls back, “Fuck. Fuck, are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” Loki fumes, "But fuck, you really don't know a thing, do you?"

“I- no, I can’t,” Thor mutters, pulling his jeans back up, “Not like this,”

“How many times are you going to do this to me?” Loki hisses, spitefully, and shimmies back into his skinny jeans, “It’s just tug-a-war with you, all the time. You want me, then you don’t. You like me, you can’t stand me,”

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Thor murmurs, and digs around for Loki’s shirt.

"Do you like me?" Loki says, but he doesn't sound spiteful. His voice is unsure and he's not trying to bully a reaction from Thor. He's shy, and he's refusing to look Thor in the eye.

"It's not that simple," Thor tries to explain, slipping Loki's arms into the flannel shirt with a gentle touch.

"It's a yes-or-no question," Loki’s replies, and he grits his teeth together because he's terrified that he might slip up, and Thor will see the emotions he's been working so hard to hide.

“I don't know how to act when I'm with you, how to talk to you,” Thor says, quietly, and Loki just shrugs in reply, "I just don't know how to be around you,"

"Try being yourself for once," Loki snaps back, "This 'Football-Jock Lady-killer Rock'n'roll' caricature is getting old,"

Thor bites his bottom lip, and his blood feels like ice in his veins. His fingertips are numb, and his gut turns and flips. He knows the answer is _yes, I do like you_ but he struggles to say it aloud. He tries to say something, just a mumble of an answer would be acceptable at this point, but the sight of Loki with kiss-bruised lips and tousled hair is too much and he just nods dumbly.

"I'll be in the car park tomorrow evening. You can be there, or not," Loki says, shoving past Thor to get out of the car, "Make your _own_ decision for once," he adds, then walks off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I keep cockblocking my own fics?  
> I’m sorry, Thor and Loki..  
> I’m so sorry, readers.


	10. Chapter 10

Thor has been staring at the ceiling weighing up the options Loki has given him, instead of listening to quadratic formulas. He couldn’t believe he was even considering it, throwing away everything he worked so hard to achieve – the popularity, and infamous reputation – just for Loki. Not to mention what would happen when the football team and his father found out. He’d be a social exile, and his father would probably disown him. He decided he’d at least have the decency to tell Loki to his face that he just can’t do this. He can’t risk everything on a stupid feeling.

Thor leaves class early, and trudges through the empty halls. He drags his shoes along the floor, his red Chuck Taylors squeak and it mixes with the vague buzzing of voices from classrooms. Then there’s a clicking sound of footsteps trailing behind him, causing him to turn and glance over his shoulder.

Loki is standing a few feet away, just staring at him, with his black nails tapping alongside the wall. Thor turns, and walks off. He can't deal with Loki, not yet. Not now, in such a public space, where anyone could walk out of class.

Then the bell rings, and the students flood out, running as if it were spring break. Thor loses Loki in the crowd, then the next thing he knows, there's a circle of students and the sound of shouting.

Thor gets a twisted knot in his stomach. He's all too familiar with this situation, and he knows instantly that it means the footballers are on the look-out for blood.

He looks over and see what he'd been dreading. Loki is getting punched to the face over and over again, and blood mixes with spit though Thor is surprised how well Loki seems to fight back for such a scrawny kid.

There’s a large group of students circling the two boys who wrestle on the ground, and Thor twitches every time the fist collides with Loki’s jaw. The skin has split now, and there’s blood seeping out, trailing down Loki’s chin and the other guy’s hand. Thor vaguely knows ‘the other guy’, but can’t recall a name. He assumes he knows him from one of the sporting clubs, judging from the guy’s muscular build.

“Had enough?” The guy growls, yanking Loki’s up from the floor by the front of his shirt.

There’s silence from Loki, who pushes himself back up from the floor. The strain barely showing between clenched teeth, as his arms shake under the weight of his tired body.

Loki looks up at Thor, but it’s not a silent plea for help. Loki’s not asking him to save him, he just wants Thor to see this – for whatever reason. A couple of drops of blood trickle from his mouth, and splatter into the pool of crimson forming on the floor.

Thor stands there, and says nothing. He doesn’t do a damn thing, it’s as if his limbs have frozen. He stares at Loki, but puts on a passive expression for the crowd of students.

Sometimes, this is all that Thor is – just a figure in a crowd, wearing the appropriate expression as a mask- because he knows that’s what’s expected of him. He finds it easier to just do what’s expected of him, even though what’s expected can be very difficult at times – like right now, standing here as if he doesn’t care, as if he doesn’t know Loki at all.

A teacher emerges from a nearby room, and sighs as soon as she sees Loki. “Laufey, why am I not surprised?” she says, in a flat tone. She rolls her eyes, and flicks her hand lazily, indicating everyone should vacate the premises as quickly as possible.

The crowd clear off, including the guy with blood on his knuckles, and the teacher doesn’t even bother to check that Loki is okay. Her heels click along the hallway, as she walks off, and Thor waits until there’s silence before returning to find Loki leaning against a row of lockers.

“What happened?” Thor asks, sitting down beside Loki, “Why didn’t the teacher-”

“Don’t act like you’re any better than that teacher, just because you came back,” Loki snarls, and struggles to get to his feet.

“I would’ve helped you, if-”

“If, what? If no-one else was there? If I would’ve actually started choking on my own blood? What’s it take?” Loki says, then smiles but it’s a sick kind of smile splattered with smeared blood, “I didn’t want you to help me. I didn’t want you to stand up for me, or save me. I can get by just fine on my own,”

“Well, that’s fucking perfect,” Thor replies, and his voice has a sharp edge, “Because you’re going to be on your own from now on,”

“I always was,” Loki answers, his facial features twisted into an ugly grimace.

Loki was convinced he was perfectly content with being alone, he’d been alone for so long it felt unnatural to be around other people. But, he knew, Thor was not included in the general grouping of ‘other people’, Thor was not ordinary by any means. He knew he’d miss Thor, but he wasn’t going to be the one to say it. He was constantly viewed as weak, and to admit he didn’t want to let Thor go, would just be reiterating that weakness.

Thor turns and walks off, but he can’t make it more than a few steps. He can’t just leave Loki there, bleeding on the floor, and alone. Thor is proud and vain, he’s been raised to believe he was the highest of society, and that he stoops down for no-one. But for Loki, he’s willing to make the exception. Because, as it seemed, Loki was the exception to all rules, and had an ability to change everything Thor had thought he knew.


End file.
